


To Hear Her Laugh Again

by flemoncake



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Reunions, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 13:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18700318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flemoncake/pseuds/flemoncake
Summary: There it was again. He heard a soft giggle from inside the forge and knew immediately whom it belonged to having thought about it so much for the last days, weeks, to be honest the last years. Sometimes the memory of her laughter was all that warmed him on that icecold nights. He would recognize this giggle everywhere.But hearing Arya laugh again after so long time and being afraid his sudden appearance could change her light mood and her feeling carefree tonight was stronger than his anger. It stopped him from rounding the corner, instead Jon stayed still and listened.„You're still just another rich girl obviously.“„You are still stupid obviously.“





	To Hear Her Laugh Again

Arya had changed so much. She mostly kept to herself, didn't talk a lot. She never came to eat in the Great Hall. Most of the time he wasn't sure where she was, he even started asking around for her when he had a few moments to himself, not overwatching the shipments, arrivals, sitting in the war council, discussing things with Sansa or spending those little precious moments with Dany that he grew so fond of.  
But no one ever seemed to know where she was or more like where she was „lurking“ as Sansa had called it. When they did meet, she was always genuinely happy to see him, he could tell, her whole face lightning up. When they would meet in the hallways or the courtyard he always took the time to at least stay for a couple of minutes to be with her but most of the time it was him who talked or they stood in silence. Content silence, but it was still so new to Jon. As a young girl Arya used to never shut up, telling him secrets and they used to make fun of Sansa and Septa Mordane. But now, Arya was the one listening to his stories and staring at him affectionately but keeping guarded and mostly silent.

Seven hells, even Bran had been more chatty, if you could call it that anyway. Jon honestly wasn't sure what to make out of the strangers his two youngest siblings had become. Of course, he was prepared, as Sansa has written to him. Never before had Jon read a letter by Sansa that practically shouted how happy she was about the return of their believed lost siblings. And how overwhelmed he would be to meet with Bran and Arya again. Sweet little Bran, he had _adored_ the boy growing up. He was always smiling, following him and Robb everywhere and how he loved stories. Old Nan's stories especially, the ghost stories were his favourites. He had heard them so often that whenever it grew silent when he followed after Robb and Jon he started retelling them, adding new angles if they listened long enough, probing his own skills as a storyteller. Oftentimes he had ended up mixing the stories up by accident and the older boys couldn't stop laughing at the hilarious fates the heroes encountered.

But, Sansa had also warned him. To brace himself as the younger siblings that they used to know had changed a lot. Bran still reminded him of a storyteller, but yes, he was entirely different now. Always brooding, observing, never laughing. If he talked at all it was always...Jon hadn't words for it. It gave him chills. What had happened to the young boy who used to love to laugh? 

And Arya. Oh _Arya_. Without hesitation he could name meeting his little sister again after all those years apart one of the happiest moments in his life, that afternoon in the Godswood. When they embraced again, Jon had felt happier than in a long time.  
When they walked back to courtyard together, arm in arm, he started to notice.  
For one she moved differently. Of course she had grown, being a young woman now of eight and ten, with light curves and a more narrow face, but still very skinny and small. The last time he saw her she was a little girl, always running and jumping (not _at all_ like a proper lady, as Septa Mordane called after her oftentimes), with a spring in her step, ready and looking forward to new adventures. Now her steps were calculated, like she planned every one of them and light. As when she sneaked up on him in the Godswood, she made no sound when she moved.  
Secondely she carried those two weapons like it was nothing new to her. „Once or twice“ she had answered him when he had asked her about Needle, with a amused look on her face but her gaze became guarded and severe when she put Needle back.  
There was something else different in her behaviour but Jon was too occupied with his feelings of happiness for having his little sister back that he didn't think about it any further.  
It wasn't until a few days after their reunion late at night when he laid in bed next to Dany laughing about a story she shared with him when Jon realized what was bothering him during the few moments he had shared with Arya. She had stopped laughing. To be honest: She acted guarded, calculating and almost cold.  
„What has happened to you during we were apart?“ he wanted to ask her so many times over the next days, but the moment never seemed right. And he almost never saw her and discussing her past that was not a topic you could pick up nonchalantely in the courtyard with dozens of men passing them and him being interupted all the time, having to give orders, being asked his opinon the moment he has left his room every morning.

So he decided to visit her in her chamber the next morning and to ask her then. If Arya hadn't changed completely, directness was still the best way to get answers from her. 

Sansa had warned him in the morning before when they were breaking their fast together that he should absolutely act sensible about asking details from Arya's past.  
„What do you mean by that?“  
„I have no idea what she has been through Jon. And I am not sure I want to know at all to be honest.“ She seemed nervous and stared at her plate. When she adressed him again she whispered „I am afraid to know, after all that what happened, when Lord Baelish plotted to bring us up against each other. I saw...things and Arya didn't care to explain them-“ „What kind of things?“ Sansa didn't answer. „Sansa!“ he pressed.  
With a tone that signaled that she didn't wish to continue this discussion she said „I can't explain, I am not even sure what I saw and I won't talk to you about it anymore. Still gives me goosebumps“, which was definetely true as Jon observed the bare skin on her wrists. „Maybe she'll tell you", Sansa said when she stood up. "She has always trusted you the most as you know“, she added with a small smile and left the room.

Even without Sansa's words by now Jon was convinced that something dark was troubling his baby sister. Whenever he saw her lately, he studied her face hoping to find answers there. In her eyes he found what made him fear for her. There was something in her grey eyes, like a shadow of a wolf racing around while she observed her surroundings. Always watching and observing, that too was new. Taking all in, letting nothing escape her eyes while she listened to him and then again he saw the restless shadow in her eyes. All he wanted to do is help her.

„Hopefully she won't shut me out completely when I ask her.“, Jon thought nervously when he was passing the courtyard in the evening on his way over to the forge where he wanted to check on the process of the dragonglass weapons in the making. He hadn't had the time to come by the forge so far and wasn't sure it even made sense at this time of the day, probably all men working there would be asleep already but he promised Sansa to drop by the forge for a quick check today.  
Most of the people who normally crowded the yard where resting now, as snow had started to fall an hour earlier and the food had already been given out and so he was almost alone. It was quite peaceful and quiet and when he had almost reached the forge Jon took a few moments to stand still and enjoy the feeling of being back at home. There had been so much going on. Decisions to be made, planning the defense of Winterfell strategically, his feelings for Dany, organizing places to sleep and food for everyone and finally his worries about Arya that he hadn't taken the time so far to being happy about being back at Winterfell.  
For how long had he been wishing to be back here with his family? How many nights had he dreamed about returning to this castle. Talking to his father, Ned Stark. Sparring with his brother Robb and with Theon Greyjoy, while Bran told them one of his stories. Having little Rickon on his lap bouncing him until the little brother would laugh so hard he would fall from his lap to the ground. In his dreams at night back at the Wall he even enjoyed Sansa's company whom he used to really dislike and vice versa, sometimes there was even Lady Catelyn.  
Jon walked on and reached the forge. He heard a hammer still working so somebody inside was still up. Whoever it was could show him the progress of the dragonglass weapons he assumed.

He took one moment longer to revel in his dreams when the hammering suddenly stopped. And always there was Arya, in his dreams. He would ruffle her hair and mock her about hear lack in being a lady and doing pretty stitches like Sansa. Arya would get mad, would tell him to stop and then she would laugh -

Jon stopped dead in his tracks at the entrance of the forge, but didn't round the corner. Had he become so consumed by his old memories, his growing tiredness and his worries for Arya that he had started to imagine things?

But no. There it was again. He heard a soft giggle from inside the forge and knew immediately whom it belonged to having thought about it so much for the last days, weeks, to be honest the last years. Sometimes the memory of her laughter was all that warmed him on that icecold nights at the Wall, after having seen them beyond the Wall. He would recognize this giggle everywhere.

Jon smiled overjoyed to hear that dear beloved sound again.  
About to go inside he heard a soft chuckle he did not recognize (apart from being definitely male) and stopped again. _Who_ was laughing with Arya? He wanted to know badly, feeling hurt there was somebody else who could do what he didn't manage to do and angry at the same moment. No matter if Arya liked it or not she was a Lady of Winterfell and her presence alone with a man at this hour in the forge of all places (what did she need from there anyways, she already had a sword and a dagger) was really not proper at all.  
But hearing Arya laugh again after so long time and being afraid his sudden appearance could change her light mood and her feeling carefree tonight was stronger than his anger. It stopped him from rounding the corner, instead Jon stayed still and listened.

„You're still just another rich girl obviously.“  
„You are still stupid obviously.“

There was a long pause. And then another chuckle.

„I will start immediately. Lady Stark.“  
„ **Stop** calling me that.“  
„As you wish m'lady.“

That was making her laugh even more and in this moment Jon decided he didn't care right now if Arya was beheaving improperly. „As long as she continues laughing like that“, Jon thought relieved and started walking back into the falling snow. He sighed. They would talk about it in the morning. The checking of the weapons could also wait till morning.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so proud of Arya Stark, not alone for saving everyone, but proud of her journey and all she has learned and that makes me so happy <3 That is why I decided to give it a go, this is my first fanfiction ever.  
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!


End file.
